


The Softer Edge of Shadows

by Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1)



Series: The Thinker, The Feeler [9]
Category: Transformers: Rescue Bots
Genre: Best Friends, Bittersweet Ending, Compartmentalization, Computer Programming, Cybertron, Darkness, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Repressed, Existential Angst, Homesickness, Insomnia, Introspection, Late at Night, Loneliness, Nostalgia, Photographs, Sorting, Stargazing, being alone, wandering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-15
Updated: 2015-07-15
Packaged: 2018-04-09 11:06:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4346168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Im_The_Doctor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It may be early in their stay on Earth, but Heatwave has already almost forgotten how valuable moments like this are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Softer Edge of Shadows

It had been at least three joors since Heatwave tried to turn in for the night, but here he was, still not recharging. His internal clock droned on and on and the firehouse creaked, sounding much too loud in the dark, even louder than the sounds of recharge from the others—Boulder’s motor rattling and Blades’ whirring. Heatwave was used to not hearing Chase recharge; his was a mellow hum that was outmatched by the others.

Heatwave remained motionless for another breem before he sat up, careful to keep his footfalls soft as he slid off his berth and crept out of the recharging chamber.

Various things in the firehouse gave off a dim glow which helped Heatwave see his way through the firehouse’s upper bay. He wandered for a while, studying how things changed in the dark. There weren’t many emergencies to worry about, so the shadows took on a softer edge and made the stars all the clearer. Heatwave glanced around before slowly cracking open the bay doors designated for him, venting cool outside air and staring intently at the sky, almost wishing he could see Cybertron, wherever it was. Almost. What was the point of looking for a home that had gone even darker than the nights they spent here? Sighing deeply, Heatwave closed the doors.

It was rare that he had an opportunity to do things without a certain someone peeking over his shoulder, making a rule against it or distracting him with something in their surroundings. This might be his one chance. Praying that the systems wouldn’t wake anyone, Heatwave made his way toward the computer room.

The lights were already on. Heatwave’s first thought was of Doctor Morocco and his second of Decepticons, so he rushed forward, pinpointing the silhouette standing at the computer.

“Hey!” he barked, priming a blast of water at the perpetrator.

“Oh. Heatwave!” Chase gasped, startled. Glancing between the screen and Heatwave’s deepening frown, the police Bot quickly clicked a few keys to make the tech go dark.

“Turn that back on, Chase, I can’t see a thing,” Heatwave complained, sighing when the screen returned full brightness to the room. “What are you doing?” Heatwave added a firm note to his voice. “You’re supposed to be recharging.”

“As are you,” Chase pointed out.

Heatwave released another, heavier sigh. “Chase…”

“I was simply reviewing old _Sigma_ files,” Chase finally acquiesced. “It seems there was a lot that I kept unsorted. I’m trying to correct this.” He paused, his green optics flickering down for a klik or two before re-fixing on his leader. “Would you like to see?”

Figuring he had nothing else to do now that he was no longer alone, Heatwave shrugged and came closer as Chase opened a somewhat large file of old photos.

Many of them were of scientific specimens Boulder had picked up throughout their routine patrol. Occasionally one would appear of the Sigma’s ceiling or the back of the captain’s chair—something Blades had snapped when he was bored. All at once the entire screen lit up with a picture aimed out the right side of the Sigma’s fore window. The side of Cybertron facing the window was aglow with millions of lights, healthy and welcoming.

Heatwave didn’t need to say anything; Chase stopped the slideshow there, leaning in slightly as though it truly were in front of them and if he reached out, he might believe he was touching it. Heatwave noticed, even if it would look to anyone else like he didn’t react, and his throat tightened.

“I took this photograph just as we returned on our first mission as the _Sigma_ crew,” Chase proclaimed softly. “I didn’t understand it, but I thought it looked different when it was waiting for us to come back.”

Glancing at him, Heatwave was inexplicably unsurprised to find longing, tinged with understated sorrow, sharpening his friend’s features. He _was_ surprised, however, by the sudden urge to hug him. Almost as rare as Heatwave’s opportunities to be alone were the opportunities to spend one-on-one time with his pre-Earth partner. He had nearly forgotten how valuable the moments were when they could both show emotion and be unashamed by duty or the opinions of others.

“One day it’ll be waiting for us again. We just have to…wait for it,” Heatwave murmured, denying the idea to hug but willing to slip an arm around his shoulders. Through that gesture he could feel some weight leave Chase’s posture.

“Indeed.” The police Bot hesitated, and Heatwave could feel the exact instant when they both started to push their shared sparkache back into its ignored compartment. “Where should I allocate the image? I suppose it should be the last before we retire.”

Heatwave squeezed his shoulders a bit tighter, letting his feelings take charge for just a nanoklik longer as he suggested, “Make it the home screen.”


End file.
